Burnie-N-Ella
by SoporificCapsule
Summary: A short story inspired by a classic fairytale about an unlikely coupling in unlikely circumstances. O/S A/H HEA, blah, blah.


**BURNIE-N-ELLA**

ISABELLA

"But he is intolerable father, I won't do it and you can't make me!" Isabella stomps her foot, just to show her father how disapproving she is.

"Quite the contrary Isabella, I can easily order you to, as your king." He easily counters. "Besides," he continues after the brief pause, "would you really see us go to war with France? You have been promised to Prince Michelle Nouveaux since birth. Do you really expect your countrymen to die for your petty petulance?"

"I expected you to see my perspective as my father, not my king… and of course I don't want our people to die for me, but surely there is something you can do?"

Her mother joins her father's side and lopes her hands through his arm. "Come now Ella, while we appreciate your concerns, your father and I had an arranged marriage and we have had wonderful lives."

"I don't want your kind of wonderful life mother… I want _my_ kind of wonderful life; one that _I_ choose."

Her parents exchange words silently with a mere glance, something their years together have taught them. "Very well," King Charles the Third allows. "Prince Michelle will be here on the first of next month, if you wish to dissolve your coupling, you must do so at least two weeks prior to his arrival so word can be delivered before he leaves. That leaves you with a week and a half for you to find a husband. To do so, you will hold a ball next Saturday… invite whom you please, it matters little."

Pure glee spreads across her face and she could do little to contain her excitement. She closes the distance between her and her parents and squeezes them both with all her might. "Thank you Papa, but what of France if I succeed?"

"Let me deal with them, don't concern yourself."

And she doesn't, without a moment to spare, she sprints to the royal courier to summon the royal ball organiser.

BURNIE

"Edward! Emmett!" The patriarch of the house yells, excitement lacing his tone. The young men scramble through the threshold, pushing at each other to reach their father first. "I have exciting news," he announces, a small bounce in his heels. The young men stand at attention before their father and wait patiently for him to speak. "The princess has announced a masquerade ball this Saturday, and…" he trails off, hoping to prolong the suspense. "Everyone in the kingdom is invited." Glee lights up in their faces, "but that's not the best part."

"Well?!" Edward prompts, a shortness entering his tone.

"Mrs. Elton heard it from Miss Bates who has it on good authority from the stable boy at the palace who is courting the princess's maid-servant."

"And?" Edward prompts again.

"It seems our princess is unhappy with the king's arrangement of her hand and she will be seeking a replacement fiancé at the ball. Since she has taken it upon herself to invite the whole kingdom, everyone has a chance at winning her favour. I can see it now, us living in the palace… living like kings." A cheshire-like grin morphs the patriarch's features to a much more sinister demeanour.

"Excellent," Edward murmurs, his brows drawing in with thought.

"Wow… a ball…" Emmett whispers in wonder.

"Burnie, fetch the carriage… I have some things to organise."

The man listening in from the next room heads to the stables and prepares the carriage himself. A mere four months prior and the stable boys would have fetched it, and a mere decade prior to that, they would have fetched it for himself. He wasn't born into his servitude, but was rather thrown into it by his step-father. His mother, the heiress of their grand estate sadly passed on mere weeks after his mothers and step-fathers coupling, leaving him at the mercy of the stranger and his evil sons.

He seats himself on the hardboard and manoeuvres the carriage to pick up his eldest step-brother from the front of the estate.

Edward already awaits his arrival, a 'harumph' to express his disapproval of being left to wait. "To town." His tone as short as it always is.

ELLA

"It's just not proper your highness, no one of such fine and high breeding should ever be seen in such rags… it's just not proper!" Her lady-in-waiting repeats, somewhat aghast.

"Calm down Alice, it isn't a big deal. If I wear peasants clothing, then I won't be recognised, it is out of necessity, not propriety." Ella rebuts.

"Someone as beautiful and as precious as you shouldn't be amongst the riffraff, you should be on a pedestal and revered upon," Alice counters.

"You're laying it on really heavy Alice, and this isn't up for debate. If I choose to go to town and shop like any other normal lady in the kingdom, then I can."

"But you _aren't_ a regular lady, you are heir to the throne… our entire kingdom rests upon your delicate shoulders."

"Thanks for reminding me Alice, but I'm still going. Besides, if I am going to rule them one day, then I have a right to understand them and learn about them, and what better way than _being_ one of them?"

She brushes her light-brown skirt down and holds out her elbow, "now, are you going to accompany me?"

With a huff, "well, someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Together, they take an ordinary carriage to town, and walk about just as Ella had hoped, completely unrecognised.

Merchants have flooded the town with a myriad of goods, but mostly stocking beautiful and rich materials for gowns and a few merchants specialise in selling the masquerade masks.

"Perhaps we should select our masks from one of the merchants Alice. All of the royal milliners and dressmakers make pompous looking gaudy pieces for me and I don't like them one bit.

"You continue to confound me, Your Highness."

"For God's sake Alice, call me Ella, do you really want to be swamped out here?"

"Sorry."

Ella dragged Alice over to the closest merchant that stocked only masks. "Aren't they beautiful Alice?" She says while stroking a gold-gilded plum half-faced mask.

"Indeed Your… Ella. I believe this one will suit you quite well." She holds up a sky-blue mask that will cover the eyes only, a small puff of feathers coming off the side and no other detailing to signify.

Ella takes it from her and places it over her eyes, tying the blue ribbons over her hair. "But are you quite sure Alice? It is quite a lovely colour, but is it too plain?"

Alice gasps when she sees the mask in place. "Quite sure Ella, I've never seen anyone quite so beautiful."

"I don't know…"

Alice's gaze swivels beside her to where a man stands, perusing a selection of men's masks. "Excuse me sir, my friend here thinks I am lying to her, can you please tell her your honest opinion about her mask?"

The man in question shifts himself to face the two young women, his eyes behind his own mask taking the ladies in curiously. "Of course your friend isn't lying to you miss, you are the most beautiful creatures I have ever beheld."

BURNIE

It isn't his place or station to say such things to a beautiful creature, but he felt it would be a crime against nature if she wasn't absolutely positive she is truly a living, breathing Aphrodite.

"Come now, I am but one amongst a herd and a silly mask does very little to bolster ones beauty. Besides, what is beauty to a wholesome mind or wit and charm?"

"Very little, I imagine. But surely one cannot be chastised for calling a horse a horse, an apple an apple or even beautiful, beautiful."

"No, I suppose not, but exaggeration is not kind to ones vanity sir, it may indulge my narcissism."

He barks out a laugh from behind the mask, "now you try to convince me you are narcissistic? Impossible!" He declares confidently.

"You seemed to have judged my character so quickly, what else do you presume to know about me?"

He scoffs behind the mask, "I presume nothing, I observe. And I have observed that you aren't of the mind to be self-absorbed, your beauty goes deeper than just your flawless face."

"Burnie!" The familiar condescending tone of his step-brother reaches their ears.

"If you fine ladies will now excuse me, I am being summoned. Please beg my pardon." He turns his back to them, leaving the giggling, beauteous ladies behind to their own devices.

He approaches Edward, a small smile on his lips, hidden by the mask, still hiding his identity.

"What in God's name were you doing? I've been looking for you forever!" Edward huffs at him, his arms crossed awaiting an explanation.

"I was looking for a new mask." He replies easily.

"That's a good idea, I'm sick of looking at that hideous thing, it creeps me out."

He cares very little what his half-brother thinks of his mask, he was only looking for a new one because the one he wears now is starting to stain and smell a bit.

"I'm done, so fetch the carriage, I'll wait here for you."

Whistling behind his mask, he 'fetch's' the carriage to go home.

ELLA

"There has to be! I heard that other man call him with my own ears."

"I'm sorry dear, he is either from another kingdom or that was just a nickname, but there is no man under forty years of age with the name of Bernard or any other name that resembles Bernie." Her mother consoles. "I have no doubt he will be at the ball, you will likely see him again there."

"But mother, what if I can't recognise him? He was wearing a mask and could easily change it."

"If you were meant to be, you will find him again."

Ella throws herself back onto her overly-plush bed, "Ugh, that is such a typical line mother and it gives me no confidence. There must be more I can do to find him."

"There is only to venture back into town and look for him or ask around about him, but the ball is tomorrow, there is no time now. If you don't find him at the ball, we will resume the search for him afterward."

"I suppose there is nothing for it, then," she sighs heavily.

BURNIE

"Burnie, get my cravat. The golden one!." Screams Edward from the top of the stairs.

"Burnie, I can't find the damned comb, where did you put it?!" The patriarch bellows from his personal library.

"Burnie! I can't get my breeches done up! Come help!" Emmett from his lower-floor chambers.

He sighs heavily into his mask, the fog of his breath making it sticky against his skin. "The cravat is in the top drawer of the mirrored cupboard, the comb is in your top desk drawer and the buttons go through the holes Emmett!" He can yell just as easily as they and he will be damned if he is moving from his position on the floor in front of the smouldering embers of the fireplace.

Silence then follows which can only mean they have all managed to accomplish something by their own steam. He rubs the stiffness from his hip, extricating the last tendrils of heat to soothe the pain that shoots through most of the left half of his body. It was only a mere week after his mother's death when he sustained his first injury. He hadn't seen Edward approach from behind. His foot had just found purchase on the top step he was descending when Edward pushed him. It is, thus far, one of the worse injuries Edward has caused him, resulting in the entire left side of his body aching all the time and a bad limp.

"Fetch the carriage Burnie, the nice one. And put on something nice, even servants have to look presentable." His step-father actually made the effort to search him out rather than just screaming at him through the house. "I believe you inherited a dashing suit from your father, wear that. And do hurry, we need to be leaving soon."

It doesn't take as long to ready himself as his step-family did, and in practically no time at all, he was driving the trio to the ball of the century.

He opens the carriage door for them, his father pausing briefly. "I don't care what you do, but we will be leaving at midnight, sharp, so be here with the carriage ready."

He doesn't bother to verbalise his affirmation, he just re-mounts the driver seat and parks the carriage in the allotted area.

"Burnie," a fellow coachman hollers at him excitedly. "Come, all is invited, so let's dance and have some fun."

He was hoping to catch up on some sleep, but the prospect of admiring the beauty and elegance of the land does seem appealing. "Very well."

"Capital, capital."

He climbs from his seat and walks with a slight limp in his gait, toward the masquerade ball… he didn't even have to buy a mask.

ELLA

"Are you quite sure it isn't too much blue, Alice?" She asks, gazing worriedly at her blue ball gown, matching her mask perfectly.

"You look exquisite, Your Highness, no one in history has ever looked more beautiful than you do right now." She reassures her. "Now come, you are quite late to the ball already, fashionably late, I suppose."

"Now Alice, I beg you, _and_ order you to address me as Ella tonight, I don't want my identity known and of course mother and father are the only ones that call me Ella, so it is not a name known to the masses."

"Of course Your— _Ella_."

They walk arm-in-arm like close confidants, and that is how Ella feels toward Alice, but she expects any affection toward herself on Alice's part may purely be professional. "I hope he is here," Ella mumbles idly.

"I'm sure he will be… well, presuming he wants to see you again, this will be the place to do it."

"That doesn't comfort me in the slightest Alice!" She exclaims horrified. "What if he _doesn't_ want to see me again? What if any connection felt was on my part only? Oh no! What if he is here, but still holds no affection for me and I make a fool of myself?"

"Calm yourself Ella, you are becoming quite hysterical. Now, if he held no accord for you, he simply would have dismissed your presence at the market instead of flirting mercilessly with you."

Ella doesn't have any chance to comment further, because through a discreet side door, they enter into the ballroom, amongst masses of her people. Perfumes and sweat make a heavy cocktail in the air, not quite pleasant while wax drips from thousands of candles alight on the chandeliers above, stinging her exposed flesh wherever they land. Despite the smell that permeates the air, the ball itself is quite exquisite with its rich decorations, world-renown orchestra and the languid flowing bodies of the dancers.

She can't help herself, she spins where she stands, taking in the masterpiece she helped plan down to the finest details.

Then… time stands still.

She hadn't even started her search for her beau yet, but he stands against the wall, close to where she exited from, taking in her spinning form. Heat flushes over her cheeks, embarrassed she was caught being silly by the one person she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of.

"It's you!" She gasps amongst her embarrassment, "Bernie, is it?"

BURNIE

He appraises the beautiful creature in front of him for the second time in the span of a week. "To some, Miss Ella," he replies mysteriously. "But from you, it won't do at all. We need to better than that."

"Then, your real name, perhaps." She offers, not really knowing whether or not 'Bernie' was just a nickname. The red flush, now drains from her cheeks.

"Now, there is a name I haven't heard in years," he slouches further back into the wall for support.

"And why is that?" A flash of keen interest flashes through her eyes. "I'm sorry, that was rude, please forgive me." She backtracks, not wanting to scare him off.

"Ella, I am being summoned, I'm sorry but I must leave."

"Of course Alice, do as you must," she excuses her lady-in-waiting.

She closes the distance between them, stopping a respectable distance away. "What would you like me to address you as then?" She asks, returning to their previous subject.

"I feel I have wasted enough of your time, I'm sure there are a great deal of better-suited people whom can entertain you much better this evening."

"You're dismissing me?" she asks incredulous. "I'm here talking to you because I want to be, and I'll decide who the 'better-suited' people are."

His mouth quirks behind his mask; he likes that she has fire and conviction. "True enough, my apologies."

"Now, I want you to ask me to dance," she tells him, the heat returning to her cheeks.

"Is that so?" she nods affirmatively. "And if you wish to dance with me, why aren't you simply _asking_ me?"

"Because it's not proper!" she exclaims.

He could easily point out that asking a man to ask her is as equally improper, but he doesn't really want to debate propriety at this time. "It is improper to ask for what you want?" he clarifies.

Her lips thin, contemplative. "I suppose not…" her face still thoughtful. A determined smile stretches on her lips and she closes the small distance between them. Offering her arm, she asks, "will you give me the immense pleasure of dancing with me?"

He wasn't really in any physical state to dance, but it seems the spritely beauty has poisoned him with her charms. "I'd like that."

Pushing all pain to the far recesses of his mind, he pushes off the wall, loops his arm through hers, and leads her out on to the ballroom floor.

ELLA

The first thing she notices is the slight limp in his gait and the thick bands of muscle that are hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

"I have not danced in a great many years, so I may be quite rusty." he tells her, his words still clear, but muffled somewhat by his mask.

"That's fine." She pauses briefly, contemplating which of her many questions, to ask first. "Are you from around here?"

"Not far from here actually, and you?" His eyes bore into hers, her answer interesting him keenly.

"Yes, like you, from around here." She didn't lie, technically, she tells herself. "I wonder why we haven't met before the other day, then?" Her question more idle than anything.

"I am quite reclusive, it's really not that surprising." he replies.

"You quite fascinate me, sir, I can't figure you out at all."

He stops their progression and spins himself to face her. Their hands automatically intertwine, but their other hands hover momentarily before making contact. Her's on his shoulder, his on her waist. Then, the world around them melts away.

"You are a far better dancer than you give yourself credit for. Rusty indeed!" she compliments.

"I'm sure all your beauty and grace is just overshadowing all of my flaws."

"We are all flawed, I am no more beautiful or graceful than you, or anyone for that matter."

"Then your eyes are clouded, and don't see me clearly at all. Regardless of your flaws, or lack thereof, mine overshadow me and don't make me a good person to be around," he warns.

"And I am a grown woman that can judge and make decisions all on my own." Their eyes meet, pain in his, love in hers. "This is only our second meeting, but you have had an immeasurable affect on me. I don't care what your flaws are, I can accept you for who you are."

His brows furrow behind his mask, his lips thinning. "I don't understand what it is you want from me."

"In order for me to decide how my life goes, I have only tonight to change my current course, and I want you to be the one that changes it." Heat rises on her face again, her hands shake on his shoulder and in his hand, while her stomach churns in fright.

"You don't know me, Princess, I am no good, especially not for you. Prince Michelle is a far better match for you than I could ever be. Your current course is the better path, please forgive me, Your Highness, I mean no disrespect."

BURNIE

The bells of the grand clock start echoing through the grandly decorated room, signalling the twelfth hour. Also his cue to leave and fetch the carriage. He extricates himself from her, but her grip on his hand doesn't waiver. Exerting a little extra strength, he frees his hand, then bolts for the doors where he entered in through. Not looking back, he makes a beeline for the yard where all of the carriages await their drivers.

He mans the driver's area and pulls up, his step-family already waiting for him.

"About time Burnie, we've been waiting here forever." Edward snaps at him as he enters the carriage.

Enjoying the stars, the silence and his memories, he drives home with a smile on his face.

He joins the Cullen's in the sitting room, Edward and his father talking over each other. "So how was your night," he asks Emmett who doesn't seem to be paying attention to his father and Edward.

"It was great Burnie, I met the most wonderful woman. I am to call on her tomorrow, but she is the one. I just know it." His eyes glaze over again and he's off in his own fairyland once again.

"And how did the night go for you two?" Edward sneers at being addressed by him, while his step-father cringes, but they don't chastise him for it, their need to bluster and harp on overcomes their disgust towards him.

"Well," his step-father starts. "I met the most wonderful woman. Beautiful, she's a widow you know, and wealthy to boot." Her last trait seemingly the only one that signifies to his step-family.

He diverts his attention to Edward, whom waited for his father to report on his night first. "Well my night was a disaster! The princess didn't make herself known, she was there incognito, and I charmed and danced with every brunette I could find, so I have no idea if I danced with the princess or not! Ugh!"

A smile graces his lips behind his mask, Edward's rant once again sparking his memories. He clenches his fist where her warm, smooth flesh met his, and he notices his hand doesn't feel as it should. His middle finger is bare, where it should be graced by his father's family crest ring. His only explanation; it slid off when the princess wouldn't let him go. At least it is in good hands.

"Burnie," he looks up from his hand to Edward. "I thought I told you to get rid of that old mask, it gives me the creeps."

His brow creases in anger, and he normally walks away from situations like this, but he has had one of the best nights of his life since his mother passed, and Edward is determined to ruin it. "Well, if some little narcissistic twit didn't throw a bowl of boiling soup on my face, I wouldn't need it." He doesn't give any of them a chance to react, he leaves them and seeks solace.

ELLA

"I did not get his name, Alice," she cries into her pillow.

"But now you have his ring _and_ you know he lives nearby. We have narrowed down the search area ten-fold."

"But he does not want me! I cannot bear it! What is wrong with me?!" Her muffled and jagged sobs continue.

"If you recollect, Your Highness, he said that he isn't good for you. Not at all a distaster for you, it's that he feel far too below your station, your rank and purity intimidates him, that is all." Alice consoles with what information she knows.

"That is why I kept my identity a secret! How did he know?"

"That is a question I can't answer, but it seems to me he knew all along."

A wail escapes her mouth again, "and now he knows me to be deceitful! He will never want me."

Alice approaches her and wraps her frail arms around her sturdier form, "come now Your Highness. He is a smart man, he understands your need for secrecy, he won't begrudge you for it."

Her sobs cease, and her breath calms. "You know what Alice? I'm not going to give up. I'm going to find him, and if he truly doesn't want me, he can tell it to my face. If he can't, then he will be mine, whether or not I have to order him to marry me." She wipes to tears from her eyes and marches out of her room with new purpose, Alice in tow. "Mother, I need a small regiment of soldiers and I need a ring the exact size as this one. She hands the ring over for her mother to inspect.

"Okay dear, give me one hour."

"Thank you, Mother. Now, I want the regiment to go to every house and property in the surrounds and try the ring on the middle finger of the right hand of every man. If it then fits, I want them to describe exactly what the original looks like. I want to see all who can answer and all who refuse to do so."

"You will have your prince found within three days, my dear."

"Thank you, Mother."

BURNIE

"Hide yourself!" His step-father hisses at him, so he walks upstairs to the attic where he sits in a window, staring at the large castle nestled on the horizon.

Down stairs however, there is a bustle of activity. The regiment have arrived, just as expected, the guards rounding up any man they can find, which is only the three Cullen's, the extra man in the attic not found.

"Right hands out gentlemen, if you please. The patriarch, automatically excluded because of his age, the two youngest Cullen's hold out their hands, Emmett being the first to have the guard try the ring. Making it only to his knuckle, he is dismissed from the search. The ring gets pushed onto Edward's finger next, and it fits perfectly.

"Now sir, can you describe the ring for me?" The guard asks him.

For lack of a better reply, he answers, "I shall not." And removes his hand from the guard's.

"I'm going to have to ask you to come with me then, sir."

A self-satisfied smirk spreads on his lips. "Very well, then."

And the regiment of soldiers leave with Edward in tow.

The regiment pass through the threshold of the main gate of the Cullen estate, when the last soldier in the left line had a mind to just turn around, and glance at the estate, one last time. Staring at the small group from the top floor window, was a white, expressionless face with black eyes. "Wait," the soldier hollered. "There is someone else in the house.

"There is not!" Edward protests.

"Then who is in the top window?" The same guard asks.

"Just the help, no one to signify, he wasn't even at the ball!" Edward exclaims, his outrage very evident in his tone.

The group return to the grand estate, most now outraged by the audacity of the Cullen's for wasting their time and deceiving them. "Go get the person hiding in the attic!" The head guard barks and Emmett makes quick work of the stairs.

"You must follow me, Burnie." Emmett pants, "as quickly as possible."

Despite the pain, he makes quick work of the stairs and approaches the regiment. "Hold out your right hand," the head guard orders.

His gut sinks, automatically knowing what this is about. He holds out his right hand and the same guard who spoke, slides a foreign ring on his finger, and as expected, it fits perfectly.

"The princess is after a person who can identify a ring that has come into her possession, can you describe it for me please."

His lips thin behind his mask, "does it have a carved frog with an emerald?" He replies with the most unlikely creation he can conjure.

The guards all turn to face a soldier standing at the back of the pack.

ELLA

They all stare at the guard with expectant expressions, and the blank faces of their helmets. "It's him," she confirms, despite his ridiculous summary of his ring. She pulls the helmet from her head, a dark braid falling down her back behind her. She approaches the masked man, her smile refusing to leave her face. "Can you please accompany me for a stroll around this fine estate, sir?"

"Of course, Your Highness," he replies without emotion.

They leave the Cullen's and the regiment behind, walking side-by-side, Ella clinging to his arm. "You have been injured badly," she states without pity. "What happened?"

"Nothing a beautiful creature like you needs to concern herself with," he dodges the question.

She tugs on his arm and stills them both, then moves to face him. "You keep evading me. Look, if you just tell me that I mean absolutely nothing to you, then I will leave you alone."

His eyes sadden noticeably, "you know that is not what this is about. You deserve so much more…" he trails off, pained.

"How about I decide what I want and what I deserve, and you start coming to terms with what _you_ deserve."

His eyes cloud over in thought, but remains silent.

She takes his silence as neither a rejection nor approval, so ceases the moment to place her hands on his chest. "You are who I want," she states firmly. Her hands ease up his chest to his shoulders, then to his neck where the texture of his skin changes noticeably. She has felt this skin before, on her grandfather. He was burned badly by an alcohol bomb when he was fighting for his country. She also now, understands why he has been wearing a mask, the burns must not exist only on his neck. Her hands continue further back, behind his head where they find what she seeks; a knotted ribbon. She pulls the knot free, and the mask drops to the ground, and shatters.

He immediately looks away from her, "you shouldn't have done that," his voice coarse.

"You shouldn't hide yourself behind a lie," she turns his face with her hand. His burns cover the left side of his face, thankfully missing his eye altogether. Not being able to still her hand, she runs it over the soft, smooth flesh. "You are a beautiful person." Then, she leans in and kisses him softy on the lips. "And I don't even know your name," she admits, somewhat embarrassed by the revelation, given how much she has exposed herself and her feelings to him.

"It's Jasper."

JASPER

"Jasper Whitlock," he elaborates.

"Perfect," she responds, awe shining up at him.

"It's just a name, Your Highness." He mumbles, still overwhelmed by this strange and beautiful creature.

"It's not just a name, it's your identity, who you are. And please, I insist, and order if I have to, that you call me Ella. Calling me 'Your Highness' feels wrong, you are my equal, Jasper."

His lips thin out in distaste, "hardly, but if you demand it, I will call you, Ella"

"And you haven't answered my question, and I am dying on the inside, so please answer me! Do I mean nothing to you?"

Again, he saddens, but he won't lie to her. He just wishes she wasn't so quick to throw her life away on someone not worthy of being in her mere presence, let alone being the subject of her love and admiration. "You mean everything to me."

Her breath exits her with a whoosh, relief instant on her face. "Thank you." Love shining up from her eyes. "Do you remember at the ball, when you said that asking for what you want is not improper?" He nods, then she does the unexpected. She kneels down on her left knee, and looks up at him with hope. "Will you do me the immense pleasure of being my husband?"

A smile finally spreads across his face, and she swears she has never seen a more beautiful smile. "Yes, my princess, I will."

She smiles in return, and leaps into his arms, kissing his lips fiercely, with all of the pent-up feelings from the last two chaotic weeks. She pulls away, smile still present. "There's a catch," his eyebrows raise, "we have to marry within the next week because we missed the deadline to cancel the arrangement with Prince Michelle. He will be here in nine days to marry me… sorry. I begged my father to cancel the arrangement anyway, but I didn't meet his conditions and he refused to cancel it."

"I will give you whatever you want Ella, I'd give you the world if I could."

"You are enough." She smiles, then kisses him again.

 **A/N: SO THERE YOU HAVE IT, I MANAGED TO WHIP THIS TOGETHER FROM AN IDEA I HAD WHILE PLAYING DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION, THE TIMING BEING SO CLOSE TO SM'S ROLE REVERSAL PURELY COINCIDENTAL. HOPED YOU ALL LIKED IT, FEEL FREE TO REVIEW :P**


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